Feathered Grace
by fakefairy
Summary: There was radiant sunlight in his face with a warmth that seeped from his heart. But beyond the breathtaking smile and the faint glow in his sunglasses-hidden eyes was a deep sorrow, a burden he shared with none but himself. It brought her joy to see the rare smiles, but she wanted to bring out something genuine - she wanted to bring him joy.
1. Chapter 1

Sunlight began to seep into the bedroom beneath the cracks of her drawn curtains as the sun was slowly inching above the horizon. It wasn't long before the warm, yet soft and subtle, orange glow of the early morning sun was melting through the sheer curtains. Once the sun regained its strength as the morning went on, its light would only grow brighter, glaringly so that the woman still sound asleep in her bed would regret not drawing the second layer of her curtains as she began to stir. Her lithe arms embraced a plump pillow and her head rested comfortably atop an arm. Her legs were slightly bent, ankles hooked together, and her toes were curling against and into her duvet. As the moments passed, she was getting pulled further into the waking world, although she tried to fight it by clinging to her dream, as interesting and desirable of a dream as it was.

If there was any opportunity for her to sleep for even a second longer, it was one she didn't want to waste; for the first time in a long time she had been handed freedom, and her idea of utilizing that newfound freedom was to catch up on all of the sleep she had been missing. Life as a veterinary medicine student was no easy feat, perhaps as difficult as any medical student if not more. In comparison, students studying veterinary medicine had to learn about many more species than a student with the aspirations to become a doctor for _humans._ That had been a route she had considered once before (she had a passion for science and medicine as a whole), but realized that she had a larger passion and desire to become a veterinarian. There were many people advocating for human patients to treat them, but much fewer doctors out there advocating for the lives of animals.

She had crossed a small sea to be where she was now. For years she had compiled research on the best schools of veterinary medicine in the world, most of which were in the United States of America, but even at the cost of her education she decided not to pursue those schools—although she would have been more than qualified for acceptance—because of the distance away from home. Miyako wanted to explore the world eventually, but one step at a time, that first step being Seoul National University College of Veterinary Medicine. There were plenty of wonderful schools in her home country, but this was the best school in South Korea, perhaps even the best in East Asia, and it gave her an excuse to leave the boundaries of Japan and see the world for what it was.

For years there was the underlying fear of how she would be received once there, not only at the school but in South Korea. No matter how many years passed, the bitterness between the two countries would likely never fade, and she couldn't place blame anywhere in the country she now had to call her temporary home. She wasn't blind to all of the atrocities Japan had unapologetically committed over the years, and she wasn't blind to the lack of apologies now. She certainly wasn't blind to how her birth country treated its Korean and Zainichi Korean citizens. Tourists were a different story, but those who sought to call Japan home weren't received with open arms and a warm, welcoming reception. If the same response had been awaiting her in South Korea, she wouldn't have been surprised, but for the years she had been in the country, she still felt safe, as if she could belong. Perhaps she was expecting otherwise from pessimistic over-expectations, but maybe in some way it was a good thing to have expected the worst only to fall completely far from it.

It was clear she was Japanese and not Korean, but it didn't matter. Just like anyone else, she was there to get the best education possible in order to become the best she could be. After all, there were even some Japanese girls in Korean girl groups; there was no need for anxiety over something so small.

The decision to attend Seoul National University was one made years ago, and for years Miyako had taken the time to learn Korean and, just in case, English. English was, after all, a universal language for people all over the world. Korean was simple enough to learn, with it being similar to Japanese in not just shared or similar sounding words, but English was a challenge, especially in pronunciation, but that was a feat for another day.

Now... There was the small feat of getting out of _bed._ There was no point in attempting to fall back asleep and staying in bed now with the sunlight beginning to glare through her eyelids. With a soft groan, she buried her face into a pillow, sighing deeply in longing for just a bit more rest. Was she asking too much for even another twenty minutes of slumber? Maybe.

She began to sit up, turning her body away from the window so as to not stare straight into the scintillatingly blinding beams of sunlight pouring into her bedroom. As she slid off from her bed on the left side, she quietly cursed herself beneath her breath. Perhaps she would have been able to sleep in longer if the sun hadn't threatened her state of peace, but it was her own fault that the second set of curtains remained undrawn. Her palms were pressed to her bed, fingers gripping the edge of the mattress, and her eyes remained firmly lidded until she sighed, allowing them to flutter open once more. With her feet pressed firmly and flatly on the ground, she finally stood up, closing her eyes again as she groaned during her stretch. Bending each arm at the elbow, she flung them out to crack her joints, rolling her neck afterward.

A heavy sigh escaped her as she allowed her body to still, and for a while she simply stood there with her body bent backwards, her gaze dazedly fixated upon her bedroom ceiling. So, this was what it felt like to finally have some time off. By no means did it mean it this was an opportunity for her to wholly slack off (besides, she would never; how else was she supposed to stay ahead and earn her place as the top of her class?). Here and there Miyako would indulge in leisurely readings in her field on top of her notes and books—essentially, anything to keep her edge and remain ahead of any and all competition. Now, first thing in the morning, certainly wasn't the time for it, not when she had _just_ gotten the mildest taste of a break; it was a sweet, light, and refreshing taste dancing upon her tongue ever so fleetingly, leaving her grasping for more.

Little by little she was mentally awakening, growing more acute and less groggy by the second. Shifting from side to side, and sharply to the back, she returned to an upright position once she heard the satisfying cracks of her spinal column. A quick gaze was cast to the foot of her bed where a rattan wicker cat bed was resting against the footboard. The cushion atop the bed was vacant, leaving the inside still _occupied._ Miyako raised a hand to her mouth to cover a yawn as she slowly walked toward the cat bed, plopping down on the floor to peer into it. The corners of her mouth began to curl into a small, but tired, grin. She reached a hand inside to pet the soft mass of fur of a _still slumbering_ Russian Blue.

"Ne... _A-zu-ki-chaaaan,_ it's time to get up," she whispered, pulling out her hand and sticking her face into the opening of the little hut-like bed. A very soft noise sounded from the animal and its owner moved back, waiting for the cat to come out. It wasn't long before she did, leaping into the woman's lap and stepping off to circle her, affectionately rubbing her head and face against her owner. Miyako let out a quiet laugh and sighed out, holding out a hand for the cat to press its head into, and to receive a few scratches behind its ears and beneath its chin. "Good morning to you, too. Let's go get some food."

She rose to her feet, stopping to stretch once again, sighing out in relief as she felt her body practically unravel in its loss of tension. Bringing her hands up to her head, she tucked her hair behind her ears before smoothing it out, swiftly tying it up into a loose bun as she traversed through her home. Azuki snaked in between her legs as she walked, eliciting soft, melodious laughs from the young woman. "Stop that," she scolded, although her tone was kind, and her voice remained light and filled with amusement. "You're going to make me trip."

The smile was still ever present on her face as she reached her kitchen. It wasn't overly large, nor was it small - it was just right, spacious enough for only herself and the small cat, and perhaps the occasional guest. Miyako tended to her cat first, filling her water bowl with fresh water after rinsing it out, and filling the food bowl with a scoop of kibble. She then went to prepare her own breakfast, steeping some fresh tea leaves on the side as she prepared her soup and rolled eggs. It felt nice being able to take her time in the morning like this, being able to enjoy her breakfast in quiet leisure. Veterinary school was almost similar to what she envisioned medical school to be for the interns there. Both were difficult places to exist within the world, and in her own side she was often left with the lingering feeling of exhaustion that continued on in an endless cycle. In between school, studying, and trying to get by in the world, it was difficult to muster the small moments for self-care, whether it was to fill herself with a good meal, or to indulge in a simple moment of rest. This was certainly a wonderful change of pace that she was not going to take for granted.

One day, all of this hard work would have paid off, and she would finally have a permanent place in the world. She would be a successful veterinarian in charge of her own life and schedule, and those spells of insomnia would, _hopefully,_ become few and far between.

As the bonito flakes steeped in the pot of water heating on the stove, Miyako began to dice up a block of tofu, saving half of it for a later time and submerging it into a container filled with water. Everything was set beside the stove, and she leaned over an empty space on the counter, sighing quietly and staring drowsily at the slowly bubbling pot. It was quiet, almost strangely tranquil, save for the sounds of the boiling water and Azuki eating her food. Closing her eyes, she mentally began to step back, simply allowing the feeling of the world at peace to settle over her. Her eyelids fluttered open only as the sound of the boiling water heightened. She grabbed a bowl and her mesh ladle to fish out the bonito flakes. She got out every bit that she could before setting it all aside, then reaching for the container of red miso. A regular ladle was used to dip into the container, and she allowed it to fill with hot water in the pot to begin mixing it together. She tasted it every now and then, adding just a bit more miso when needed, before carefully dumping the tofu cubes inside. As the soup was beginning to settle, she worked on an egg mixture, seasoning it with just a bit of salt and pepper, and a spoonful of dashi. She cooked the egg in a rectangular pan to make sure it was shaped into a nice roll.

After a few more minutes, her breakfast was finished and plated, and everything was set onto a serving tray, just to make it easier to carry in one trip to her living room. She was careful in setting it down on the coffee table, so as to not spill anything. Miyako grabbed her remote and turned on the television, adjusting the volume just slightly as she settled onto the floor. Everything always seemed louder first thing in the morning, as if her ears were slowly awakening as well, not being quite used to the sounds of the world.

She absentmindedly raised the bowl of soup to her lips, slowly sipping on it so as to not burn her tongue. Her eyes were almost glazed in how they were glued to the television screen, although nothing interesting was on. One of NHK's channels was on (something she had to pay _extra_ for to gain access to), but after a while she changed it to a local news channel, and quietly felt grateful to herself for bothering to start learning Korean all those years ago. It surely made living in this country easier.

With her chopsticks, Miyako shoved the slices of her rolled eggs around on her plate as she silently mulled over what to do with the rest of her day. Turning her head to spare a glance to the clock on the wall, she saw that it was only half past eight. As early as it was, she logically knew that she could accomplish anything at a reasonable pace if she put her mind to it, but she couldn't help but to groan out in irritation. It was so _early—_ what was she supposed to do with all of this time? She had plans to study at some point to keep her mind fresh while on her break, but that was about it. There was no need for grocery shopping quite yet, and she didn't have a need—nor a necessary want—to go out shopping for the sake of leisure. Until school was over and done with, all she ever really wore was her scrubs. She was unused to having so much free time that she didn't know what to _do_ with it, but at the same time, it was something precious to her, something that she didn't want to waste.

A slice of egg was stuffed into her mouth, and she mentally began to grumble. Her eyes were darting everywhere, yet they fixated upon nothing at all. It was as if physically, her existence was very much real and grounded to the natural, material world, but her soul and mind had escaped her as if to search for the even the slightest sliver of adventure (truly, _anything_ that would spark interest to fill the void of an otherwise unplanned day). She chewed on her food absentmindedly, and her eyes finally settled on nothing in particular, appearing almost glazed in appearance as she remained lost in her sea of thoughts, external stimuli being all but non-existent and unable to disturb her from behind the barriers to her mind.

Still dazed, she was slowly lifted out from the deep well, the sound of the weather forecast pulling her out by her arms. Rain? Miyako pursed her lips together, casting a gaze to the side to peer out of the window. It was sunny out, so overwhelmingly bright and warm, with barely any clouds hanging above to mar the cerulean sky blanketing the earth. Weather was unpredictable, but if a rain storm was imminent, then that was that. Although she had nothing in particular planned for her day, she couldn't help but to feel as if the weather forecast had put a damper on her entire day. She loved the rain, but having finally caught a break after so long, she wanted to be out in the sun to feel the warmth bleeding in through her skin, to feel the wind tousle her long hair as it billowed every which way from the changing wind patterns, and to finally feel that euphoric sense of freedom wash over her, from her skin to her bones, and finally to grace her soul.

 _Rain._ For once in her life, Miyako looked up at the sky and willed for the rain to rue its existence. There was a different kind of beauty behind rain that was often under-appreciated, if at all; it was a beauty that few ever saw or cared for, but with rain brought sights, sounds, and smells worth living for. But _today,_ it was an unwelcome guest to her day, and to plans that had yet to even be born into existence.

A wistful sigh fell from her lips in hopes that the unpredictability of the weather would lead to a continuously sunny day for her to bask in, but the chance of that was incredibly slim, especially in comparison to the apparently _eighty_ percent chance of rain and thunderstorms. She was somewhat prone to a flair for the dramatic, and it was evident in her exaggerated sigh and the manner in which she tossed her head back against her sofa. With yet _another_ sigh, she sat up once more, straightening her back as she placed her attention back onto her breakfast that had surely lost most, if not all, of its warmth in her miniature tantrum over the weather forecast that threatened rainfall. She quickly finished the rest of her tamagoyaki and downed her miso soup in just a few gulps. Everything was placed back onto the serving tray, and she carried it back to the kitchen, quickly tending to the dishes to set them in the drying rack on the counter. She _had_ a fully functional dishwasher, but she lived alone and didn't accumulate many dirty dishes—it was easier to just have the small little dryer for the countertop.

Her legs moved with grace in her slow walk back toward her bedroom. An arm raised to undo her messy bun, and her lithe hand ran through her soft, wavy locks. Her hair still smelled of fresh camellias from her late night shower, and her skin smelled faintly of honey. She took her time in settling into her morning routine, as she finally had the leisure to do so. Miyako slid her clothes on with ease, albeit after much deliberation on _what_ to wear. She finally settled on a pair of tan linen and cotton-blend shorts that were slightly more baggy at the ends, and a loose, half-sleeved, black-and-white pinstripe top. She accessorized with pink accents, wearing a very muted (bordering on beige) pink pair of ankle-strapped heels. Gold-bound pink-stoned rings rested upon her slender fingers, and around her neck was an elaborate necklace of faux pearls of pink, white, and orange, to form the shape of a flower. Her earrings were studs in a similarly elaborate design to form a flower, this time crafted with small faux pearls and glass. She chose a medium-sized shoulder bag that was also a muted pink color, and transferred anything she thought she would need while out from her other bag into it.

As she peered into the mirror, turning around over and over again to inspect her outfit, she wondered if she had gone overboard, especially with the fact that she had no concrete plans. Nevertheless, she quickly attended to her makeup, keeping her face more natural with rosy hues to complement the warm brown and pink earth tones of her outfit. Only an hour had passed since breakfast—it was hardly nearing ten. Her routine wasn't overly complicated, and she had especially learned how to crunch her time, being a veterinary medicine student and needing to wake up early and leave in an instant.

Peeling the heels off of her feet, she grabbed them and walked back to her living room, plopping down on the sofa. Setting the shoes down onto the floor, she softly chewed at a fingernail in contemplation. Miyako peered around her home, somehow hoping to draw inspiration for a day plan from _something_ inside. Plants, books, art and decorations— _that was it!_ An art museum! She had been in South Korea for years now as a resident of Seoul, and she _had_ had time to explore the city and other parts of the country, but not quite in depth with her busy schedule. Even the art museums of Seoul had been left untouched, and art was a quiet passion of hers. No matter the medium, art was something she greatly admired and even dabbled in herself, although these days her sketches were mainly based on animal anatomy. She enjoyed photography, albeit casually; she had to thank the high quality camera of her cell phone for taking pictures of the quality that she did without a professional camera.

There were a lot of things that she enjoyed, always wanting to dip her toes into something new every now and then to discover new interests and new talents. She had found she was an awful actress, but still had fun with it casually anyway. She had always had a pretty singing voice since she was young, like a songbird singing sweetly with the rising of the sun, within the leaves and branches covered in morning dew. She wanted to take dance lessons, whether it was for some type of ballroom dance or modern-era hip hop.

But for now, she was content to settle down in the sidelines to embark on a small journey for not only the eyes, but the heart and soul. Art was more than admiring something _pretty._ There were often hidden meanings behind every piece, a shard of the artist themselves and what they were trying to convey. It was a bit of a game to her, trying to interpret what the original meant, but there were always one million different interpretations that it was next to impossible to hit the nail on the head. In some cases, it was more simplistic than it seemed, and in some other cases there was no meaning at all, just, perhaps, the illusion that there was—or, at least, people to _insist_ that there was.

Her chest heaved heavily in the exhalation of a deep sigh. Attention finally drawn out from her thoughts, Miyako appeared more alert once again and now noticed her cat's presence on the cushion beside her. A small smile formed over her lips and she reached a hand over to pet Azuki's head. Scratching behind the cat's ears for a few seconds, she sighed again as she pulled her hand away and rose to her feet. Looking down at her pet, Miyako placed her hands on her hips and said, "All right, I'm going to go out. I'll leave the door open to my study room as usual, just in case you need the litter box, okay? I'll be back in a few hours! Unless... I decide to visit _all_ the art museums... _No,_ that's not a good idea... There are too many... Maybe two, or three, at the most. There are a ton close together!"

By now, she had realized she was no longer really talking _to_ her cat as opposed to speaking out loud to the void as she mused over what to do. She realized that she didn't exactly have a set destination in place, either; like she had said, there were _too_ many art museums in Seoul. There was the main one— _Seoul Museum of Art._ She lived in Yongsan-gu, which wasn't far by any mode of transportation, and it was faster by tram or train over the bus. It was so close that she would rather not use her car, either. The parking fees at the museum weren't _awful,_ but she was pinching at every last coin and bill. The taxi was fastest of all, but not as cheap. Still, it was the easiest, and while she wasn't quite in a rush as she had no _reason_ to rush, she wanted that gratifying feeling of having accomplished something, whether it was for fun or not, early in the day.

Giving her cat one last scratch, Miyako grabbed her purse and put it over her head, adjusting the strap until it felt comfortable on her shoulder. She put her shoes on once she was at her door and locked it as she stepped out and shut it. She was already calling a cab as she shoved her keys into her purse and pulling her sunglasses over her eyes, and within minutes she was climbing into one, telling the driver where she wanted to go. Despite it being a short ride, she spoke quite a bit to the driver, who was extremely friendly and personable. Conversation helped awaken her just a bit more, and it left her with a smile on her face as she thanked her driver once she saw they had arrived at her destination. She hardly noticed the sights of the world outside during the drive, having been immersed in conversation, but she took that as a positive sign; it had made the drive seem even shorter than it already was.

Paying the fare, she climbed out and gave a small bow of thanks before walking toward the building. There were already quite a few people gathering outside of the entrance of the building. She wore a satisfied smile as she looked down at her phone for the time—it was just about half an hour past ten, the museum's opening time. She didn't take long in her morning rituals, but she hadn't exactly been pacing herself or keeping an eye on the time. Perfect.

The admission fee was a small price to pay, and she began her small journey, the gaze of her eyes sweeping everywhere as she decided which exhibit to visit first. There were a lot of modern and contemporary pieces inside of the museum, which were as artful and creative as anything else in their own right. Everything she saw mesmerized her, admittedly some more than others, but over and over again she was astounded by the pure creativity people had in their art. She could practically feel the freedom enveloping her and could hardly begin wrapping her mind around the time and dedication it must have taken for some of the larger works of art to have been brought to their completion.

Before she knew it, she had been in the museum for well over an hour, and came out to _dramatically_ declare to herself to feeling completely changed. It wasn't quite true—just a quirk of humor. It had been a fun visit, and she truly enjoyed everything that she saw. Still, she had a greater appreciation for things like traditional art and photography. There were plenty of smaller art galleries, many of which showcase local artists, and she would certainly have to make plans to visit more of them someday. She had in the past, just a few months ago, and was particularly touched by the photography of an artist whose name was escaping her. It made her feel inspired to invest in photography as a greater hobby, to see if she would ever have the talents of capturing the world's beauty so that she could share it with others as well.

It was just brushing upon noon and a hand fell upon her stomach as she felt it grumble in her growing hunger. Miyako began walking in search of any café or small restaurant, rushing into the first Starbucks she set eyes upon. It was surprisingly vacant, leaving a pleasant quietness to sit in the atmosphere. She ordered a panini and an iced hibiscus tea. She didn't bother finding a seat while waiting as there were plenty of tables to go around, and only went to sit once her food and drink were in her hands. She immediately went to the back corner of the café, sitting in the seat to the back to face the restaurant of the establishment. From where she sat, she had a clear view of the street outside and everyone within. Her eyes roamed for a few more seconds before settling onto her phone, and she quietly sipped at her tea.

There were few games on her phone, as she didn't quite have the time to indulge in them with her busy schedule, but she found herself browsing the Play Store for something new after she felt contented by reading recent news. An inquisitive brow raised as an interesting _dating_ app caught her attention. It was more of a chatting app than anything else, not quite like _Tinder_ or anything, but it still seemed intriguing nonetheless. Curiosity went hand in hand with her fleeting impulsivity as she hit the download button. Miyako bit her lip as she waited, looking away for a moment to take another sip of her tea. She opened the app as it finished its download, and she took a few seconds to explore its interface. It seemed that it was connected to her phone number, like a separate messaging app. A frown settled over her lips. It wasn't anything like she was expecting. There was a friends list, and it was completely void, leading her to assume that only people with the app and her number would appear.

Just as she was about to close out of the app and open something else, a random message came out of the blue. Furrowing her eyebrows, Miyako checked her friends list again—still nothing. How was she getting this message? It was only a simple "...Hello...?" but she was still left with a flurry of confusion. She dubiously typed in the chat box and began to type back and even hesitated before sending her reply.

 _"?"_ was all that she wrote back, and she pressed her lips together, staring firmly at the screen in great concentration. The person's username was _Unknown,_ and they had an anonymous avatar. Miyako could feel her heart beat increasing in her growing anxiety. This seemed suspicious, but she awaited a response anyway instead of closing out of the app and deleting it like the rational part of her brain was commanding her.

 _"Can you see this?"_ A reply. Finally. In reality, it didn't take as long as it had felt, but anxiety was getting the better of her.

 _"Who are you?"_ The rational, safer thing to ask. They had no identity. This was suspicious! Who knew who she could have been speaking to? This time, she didn't wait for a response, simply hitting the power button on her phone just once. She quickly finished her lunch and took care of putting everything away. She couldn't shake the ominous feeling settling over her. She felt unsettled. Miyako put her phone away only after calling a taxi to take her home and didn't pull it out once she was safely inside. Even after that, she only stared at it for what seemed like hours.

What was this? Perhaps she was getting unreasonably anxious at the idea of speaking to a stranger (which was truly bad enough as it was, especially as it wasn't face to face), but the circumstances were strange. They were not on her friend list, and the username of "Unknown" was strangely unnerving.

Miyako laughed out loud, albeit softly and weakly, at nothing in particular, and went to lay on her bed after kicking off her shoes. What a mistake. She could delete the app right there, but the morbid curiosity growing in her was overpowering all rational thought. She was getting anxious, and yet she wanted to delve in deeper.

 _"This is how people get killed,"_ she mentally said to herself. And yet, there she was, ready to investigate further.

Her expression became determined, and as she reopened the messaging app, she mentally joked about having to write a will. A bad, poor choice of a joke, truly.

 _"Ah, well... How bad can this be?"_

Now, it was just a little out of her hands. She was walking on a thin rope of being too late to turn back and being _able_ to turn back, but she was going to take that dangerously adventurous step forward. She hoped that she wouldn't regret it.


	2. Author's Note - 1

Hello! I'm so glad you've decided to read my fanfic, and I really do hope you enjoy it. It has been quite some time since I've written an in-depth fic, and my writing is definitely very rusty despite my roleplaying experience, as I've been extremely lacking in motivation, inspiration, and thus am out of practice.

 _However,_ this is all beside the point!

First: please leave comments! I want to know what you guys think and would love to hear your thoughts along the way.

Second: despite Mystic Messenger being a fun app, it does have a lot of triggering material and I would just like to warn you all of that. It isn't quite so new anymore, but some people may not be fully caught up to everything this game has in its story line. There will be mentions of violence, suicide, drugs, etc., but I will do my utmost best to not glorify any of these subject matters as they are incredibly serious topics. They are present inside of the game and it is impossible to discuss certain characters without briefly and lightly mentioning those triggers, so just be warned. Please read with caution and be safe! I do not plan to go in-depth with discussion of those topics, but I plan to follow the general story line of Mystic Messenger! This is my way, I suppose, of making my "main character" self insert, haha.

Third: just as a reference, my "face claim" I have in mind for my character is Kurumi Nakada. I chose her as she fit the image of the character I had in mind.

Fourth: I have also published this story on platforms such as Quotev and AO3, so if you ever see duplicates, that is why. My AO3 is also fakefairy, and my Quotev is fairyqueen.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy this. This has been five to six months in the working, due to me being busy, not having time, and lacking motivation, but the first chapter is finally out. Summer is here and hopefully I can write more quickly, as I am excited to get this out on a roll!

Thanks!

\- Sabrina

P.S - I realize how slow the first chapter went. It got out of hand, and I intended for one thing to happen, but it didn't, and went another direction instead. I kept writing and by the time I realized it wasn't going as planned, because inspiration took the reins, it was too late to go back and I had to do something else, but nevertheless! Haha.. This really did get out of hand though, because the first chapter is over 5000 words. I did _not_ mean for this to happen, but it did! Hopefully it read quickly though! Please bear with me! I also apologize for the "cliffhanger" at the end of the chapter, but I _really_ needed to cut it off with how long it already was, and I felt it would serve as a better opener for chapter two instead. Again, it was getting way too long and out of hand, and it needed to be cut off. It'll get more interesting soon! Just know that I plan to follow the general plot of Mystic Messenger! Again, it was getting way too long and out of hand, and it needed to be cut off. It'll get more interesting soon! Just know that I plan to follow the general plot of Mystic Messenger!


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